


maybe i liked you a little better

by fated_addiction



Category: 2PM (Band), K-pop, f(x), 우리 결혼했어요 | We Got Married
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Old Friends, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 00:36:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13624830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: "did you listen?"or, that time victoria realizes it's really hard to avoid closure.





	maybe i liked you a little better

-

 

 

 

"did you listen?"

on the phone, sunyoung still has a charming voice. the line cuts in and out; this month, the four of them are living out of different airports. again. it's in weird moments like this, qian thinks, that she misses her girls the most.

"of course i did," she says easily. yawns too. "it was a beautiful video and your voice was amazing - not that i expected anything less."

sunyoung sighs with relief. "good, good." the worry breaks qian's heart. "i saw some things, but i just wanted to hear from the three of you."

circles are small. it's the biggest lesson in all of this. the older they get; the smaller they need to be. does qian feel guilty about not being closer? of course. all the time. but she lives with it. it's the necessary evil.

"are you all right?"

"are _you_?" sunyoung counters.

"tired." qian blinks. "no more than usual - my flight's delayed. again."

"you're taking care of yourself though, right?"

"as best as i can," she answers dryly. "don't worry - soojung called me earlier to yell at me. amber keeps threatening to send me internet videos about sleeping. and what lack of sleeping does to the human body."

"good." sunyoung isn't satisfied. "you should listen."

"i'm fine. i promise."

there is a pause. she listens to sunyoung murmur off the line. pages turning. she said something about meeting a friend for coffee. there's _it's so good to see you!_ and _i'll let her know_ ; both sound forced and surprised. but sunyoung is laughing. then:

"nichkhun-ssi says hello."

it's a weird blast from the past that she isn't ready for. honestly. she sort of sits there and stares. her management teams still hasn't come back from grabbing coffee for everyone. she shifts in her seat uncomfortably. picks a spot in the window and just stares.

"um, hi?"

sunyoung chokes. "hello."

"is he -"

"gone," she replies cheerfully. "handsome as ever," sunyoung adds and qian rolls her eyes.

the conversation moves on. it has to. qian checks her watch. listens to sunyoung talk about a lunch she went on and of course, her next potential musical. there's recourse though: this year has started with lingering feelings. about changes. about regrets. about doors that should have been completely shut. but are unlocked.

she tries not to think about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

honestly? it's stupid.

"i'm in korea," she tells amber. on the phone. amber is in los angeles; she is meeting soojung in paris and trying to convince sunyoung to come too. maybe, if anything, for a few days.

"to see nichkhun-ssi?" amber sings. " _director_ nichkhun-ssi."

"i hate you."

there are four girls and no secrets, you know. still: it makes qian smile. despite herself. she had a long meeting with the company. sunyoung is meeting her for lunch. or maybe dinner. she doesn't remember. she checks her watch and realizes that she has about an hour or so of time to kill and honestly, she should go back to the hotel to sleep. because this time never comes easily.

instead, she stops at a cake shop by the hotel. buys a few pastries for sunyoung. for her family too.

"i thought you said there were no lingering feelings," amber says. her voice is dry with sleep. "is this you freaking out about finally coming to terms with your feelings? should i have coffee to deal with this?"

"no, stupid. you know i feel." qian catches herself. she groans.

"you walked right into this." amber is amused. "and while i don't want to waste the perfect opportunity for a witty comeback, i don't know how you feel. you haven't actually told any of us. you did get weird after."

she sighs. "the last thing i want to do is rehash any of this."

"so you _did_ have feelings! i have to tell sunyoungie."

"that's not what i said." qian narrows her eyes. she smells the conspiracy. "and are you -"

"i like him," amber cuts her off. she's casual. "and really, it's not the end of the world if you had feelings for him either. it's been a bazillion years and the two of you have seen other people. this time, there's no cameras and stuff so if you don't like the dude, you can tell him to his face -"

to make sense of what amber is trying to say is a lot. qian tries to pick it apart. then gives up. because, you know, brain capacity and things blur together when she doesn't sleep. but then again, amber is saying _something_ and the row of cakes turns into blank reflection of the scene behind here: a couple sharing a coffee and a treat, people walking, and nichkhun.

it's nichkhun.

"sunyoung says you can't be mad at her. and that you come to korea secretly a lot anyway."

"that's true," qian says. her voice is even. her shoulders fall back and she straightens.

"she'll see you at dinner."

"she better."

"calm down, mom. it's not a good look for you -"

qian hangs up. turns and meets nichkhun halfway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

it's embarrassing. after everything ended, she was embarrassed.

mostly, it's the fact that he had feelings and he was vocal about them. instead of telling her, to her face. instead of saying goodbye - goodbye was the right, responsible thing to do. instead, it opened them both up to not having closure. this is an unwritten rule for her. doors open and close. there is no lingering or waiting for someone to catch up. definite ends. there's also the fact that he dated tiffany years later, not that it was tiffany, but that it was too close to her, almost as if he were mocking her for moving faster instead of catching up.

she hated it. so maybe that's why she ran.

"nichkhun-ssi," she greets, mostly because they are sitting at a table, a real table, with coffee and pastries between them. her legs are crossed. she's planted a smile against her mouth. "it's been awhile," she says dryly.

handsome as ever, he laughs. his grin is sheepish and rubs the back of his neck.

"how long are you here?"

"a couple of nights." she pauses. "i'm trying to see if sunyoung -" she stops, corrects herself, "luna will come to paris with me."

"she should," he answers. "paris is beautiful."

qian studies him. doesn't mean to. watches the age crawl into his face. into his eyes, along his mouth. the comfortable way he sits is almost frustrating. but she breathes.

"this is weird," she says finally.

he shrugs. "i was curious."

"about me?"

"yeah." he leans forward. drops his fork into his cake. cuts off the end, takes a bite. his chin rests onto his palm. "about you."

she shakes her head. "i don't believe you."

"so you are mad at me." he laughs, but doesn't seem surprised.

"i don't undestand."

he waves his hand. "it doesn't matter," he murmurs. "that answers -"

"no." she cuts him off. takes her fork and digs into the cake. she takes a big piece and then splits it in half. "you can't speak in riddles. we're not children. there are no cameras. i'd rather you tell me whatever it is that you need to tell me to my face." her hair sweeps along her face, against her jaw. she doesn't push it back. "please," she adds politely. 

it comes back in a weird rush. it's hard to explain; she's always dreaded running back into him, especially without the safety of other people. he's unnerving. that's part of his charm. for whatever reason, he holds an understanding of how to get under her skin. he pushes quietly. then, he kicks the ground straight underneath her.

"you're frustrated."

"wouldn't _you_ be?" she counters.

nichkhun studies her. "yeah," he says after awhile. "i guess i would be."

"it takes two to keep in touch. i get that." she pushes the cake around with a fork. "i just had a hard time understanding half the things you said afterwards. especially when you never said them to me."

qian is pointed. mostly, she doesn't have the time. hasn't thought she's had the time for awhile. with him it feels different, mostly insistent. because it's nichkhun and she's never quite carried the understanding of how to deal with him.

"i also don't like when my members get involved." it's a loaded statement; mostly, it's a warning for him.

he shrugs, unapologetic. "i just asked."

she looks away, reaching for her coffee. don't, she almost says.

"you look good though." he adds and she's flustered, pressing her thumbs into her coffee lid. nichkhun nudges her chair with his foot. "i mean it," he murmurs. "i didn't reach out with an ulterior motive... i just -" he sighs softly. "getting older makes you think of things, i guess. and i've been thinking about you a lot."

she takes a bite of the cake. it's sticky, pushing against the roof of her mouth. she doesn't know what to say to him. she knows what he's trying to say though. uneasy, she smiles. then she sighs.

"i'm just taken aback," she murmurs.

"i understand."

"do you?" she asks, gently this time. she looks up, studying him. "i can't tell if you're trying to make me feel better."

nichkhun laughs a little. his mouth curls. "is it working?"

she pouts. "no."

he laughs again and leans back in his chair. his hands dig into his pockets and he tilts his head to the side. he looks younger, she thinks. inexplicably so. maybe it's because she hasn't seen him in a long time. maybe it's because she's never known where to place him. qian finds herself fascinated though, drawn to the lines around his mouth, slight creases. laugh lines. she bets they're laugh lines.

"i didn't give you a chance," he explains. he sighs loudly. "i was young and selfish and i just didn't think about the way you were feeling, _might_ be feeling. i got caught up and thought you'd just follow. because for months, you did, you were there and i took it all for granted." he waves his hand around. "this life is so stupidly unpredictable and i wanted you to fit somewhere and i didn't know what to do when you didn't."

this is dangerously close to a confession. again, she thinks. he knows it. she knows it. it's in the way he looks at her, open, too honest, and everything she's ever wanted. she's just never understood how to have.

"i liked you."

she doesn't recognize the sound of her own voice.

"then," qian adds dryly. it makes nichkhun laugh again. "i probably like you now," she murmurs. she picks up the fork again. "but you never gave me a chance to like you. you decided you felt a certain way. you decided that you were going to fix whatever was happening between the two of us. you decided to make this into something that it might have not been. you made it one-sided and it hurt."

they are saying the same thing. she feels herself relax though; the words needed to be said. there is no particular order. maybe, she thinks, that's the point.

"so where are we now?"

she looks up. blinks too. "what?"

"where are we now?" he repeats. it seems impulsive. his expression changes into something unrecognizable. it seems shy. she's confused and amused. "i mean, obviously we're two adults -"

"song qian."

her hand shoots out, outstretched for a handshake. she doesn't say _victoria_ because it feels a little impersonal for him. if nothing comes out of this, she thinks. there's her name and there's his. and she'd rather use her name for something much more definite, she thinks.

"song qian," he repeats. softly. taking her hand, linking his fingers through his. his palm is warm and he squeezes her hand. the corner of his mouth turns. and there's no room for a kiss. "it's good to see you again," he says and she's liar if she's not thinking about it, kissing him.

the truth? she won't remember what she says back. it won't matter. it's just a passing moment. the part in their tape that got caught and broken and probably aged. she will remember his hand though, the way his fingers catch against the back of hers, gingerly sweeping into some kind of circle. maybe as a reassurance. maybe to be selfish.

but it's something. 

she can't hide from it either.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"are you mad?"

sunyoung is earnest when she grabs her arm. apologizes to her about thirty times. something about running into him in the company, in panic that she was going to be _late_ and nichkhun saved sunyoung from making her wait. sunyoung pecks kisses into her shoulder and qian is easy, she melts when it comes to the three other girls in her life.

"no," she mumbles. blushes when they walk to her hotel elevator. "i'm not," she says. "i don't know what to think about it... a weird blast from the past, i guess. it was disjointing. we felt like kids the last time we met. and now as adults? it was... different."

she watches sunyoung's expression change into something serene. the other girls, they worry a lot. she knows they do. there are messages and packages and bits and pieces that stand as huge reassurances, maybe more than they know. it's a lonely life, living out of airports.

the younger girl adjusts her arm and pulls qian closer.

"that's not a bad thing," she says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

it's not always roses.

qian goes to paris alone. for thirty-two hours. sees soojung, has a croissant and cry because the two of them have always been the closet when they travel like this. they both call amber and sunyoung and the four of them make another promise. to make it work. because that has always been the promise: making it work and staying together.

but she's tired, more than just tired, she feels it in her bones and it's a lot. in the car, on the way to the airport, she struggles to find her sunglasses and hide her eyes because song qian, victoria, _whoever_ , doesn't cry like this, she carries her weights. she survives and carries her weights. because this is what she does the best.

still, his voicemail comes in between then. just when she turns to rest her forehead against the car window. the glass is cool and her phone vibrates in her palm, shrill against her skin as she tells herself _listen to music, don't answer_ because all these moments seem thin. she doesn't remember giving him her number until she sees his name pop up on the screen, _nichkhun!_ and the shrug emoji because he had been watching her and she hadn't known what to do.

she listens.

"hi," he says. "i know you're busy and i think i'm in your area in a couple of weeks. we should have dinner instead of coffee. i ran into luna-ssi again and she's worried that you're not eating - i'm not trying to make a mess -" he laughs. maybe nervously. it's enough to make qian smile a little. "just... call me if you want to? even if it's to call me an idiot. i imagine it might be nice to talk to someone that you don't see everyday."

it's the best and worst thing anyone's ever said to. in what feels like, a really long time. she replays the voicemail again, then once more, swallowing back everything's that haunted her through the day. it's like a mantra: there's coffee, shoulders back, vacation soon. you're going to be okay. _call him_.

maybe, qian thinks about it.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a khuntoria ficlet. but a ficlet turned into a fic and i have no idea, guys, maybe a character study? or me just seeing too many photos of victoria in airports.


End file.
